


Like Seafoam In The Desert

by taichara



Category: Final Fantasy IV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 05:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19125307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: When love is built on stolen moments, take everything not nailed down.





	Like Seafoam In The Desert

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FireEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/gifts).



_Oh, why must he take so long? It's agonizing, sitting here having to wait and wait and ..._

Unfair, unfair. It was hardly Edward's fault that they needed to creep and skulk around Kaipo like bandits to avoid her father's criticisms. But still it was hard, the longer she needed to keep up the appearance of nothing-untoward-at-all, and it wore down her nerves something fierce.

_Why can't Father be sensible. Honestly._

One after another Anna's thoughts chased after each other like the tiny whirligig bugs spinning across the surface of Kaipo's tiny artificial pond. By some herculanean effort she managed to not sigh; no, it wasn't Edward's fault, and it wasn't _her_ fault.

_What does Father think is going to happen, anyway?_

_He'd best not be thinking he can control me all my life. There's more to life than being mewed up in a library recopying old books and practicing tiny magics, and I'm going to reach out and enjoy it!_

\-- Like spending time with the quiet young man who came to Kaipo again and again with the desert caravans, for example. Anna had her suspicions about Edward, insofar as he carried himself like no merchant she'd ever known, no matter his clear skill at the trade, and that very skill put the lie to his claims to actually be a traveling bard of Damcyan who drifted from caravan to caravan. There were _some_ advantages to having a crotchety old sage for a father, and easy access to all sort of accounts was one of them ...

"A gil for your thoughts?"

The gentle voice right behind her head darted clean through Anna's musings. She yipped with surprise, standing so quickly her skirts whirled in the tiny wind she kicked up; the whirligigs scattered, hiding under the pondweeds. Edward stepped back a few paces, eyes widening before he noticed a small smile lurking on her face. He sketched a bow and returned a smile of his own.

"More than that, then, because surely your thoughts are worth it?"

"Oh, stop it, you --"

She clouted him on the arm and he mimed an actor's half-faint before 'recovering'. Well, that kind of performance deserved an award, now didn't it? -- so, acutely aware of the darkened window that felt uncomfortably close, Anna leaned in to place a feather-light kiss on Edward's cheek.

He certainly blushed well into the bargain, now didn't he?

"So, what's happened? Or happening? Or whichever it might be that made you show yourself so late I was _this_ close to imagining your bones being picked over by desert goblins or some other gribbly beast? I didn't see you anywhere near any of the caravans today --"

"That would be because, dearest Anna, I chose to make my own route here this time."

What. She stared back, dumbfounded -- but there wasn't a stitch of trickery or wiliness in Edward's face. Which meant she stalked the mere pace or two between them as best she could in such close confines, to stare into his eyes until he blinked.

"You what. Edward, are you down with a fever? That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard you say _or_ sing, and yes I'm including that reel about the ogre and the cranberries --"

He caught up her hand, kissed it.

"I am completely and utterly serious, and I'd like to show you how I managed the trick, if I may. I think you might enjoy it."

So earnest. So gentle. She flicked another glance up at that bedamned darkened window and its heavy sand-warding draperies. Father had gone to bed late but seeming assured that his daughter would be doing no more than 'moping' next to the water, mooning over flowers ...

_I'd be a fool not to take the chance._

She squeezed his hand.

"Let's go."

-*-

Kaipo's little pond was very different from the pale sandy beaches of Mysidia's hinterlands, and that difference was a large part of why Anna found the pond so appealing, despite -- or even because of -- the odd tingle of surrealism that clung to it. Despite its lilies and smooth pebbles and whirligigs, it was obviously not natural.

Compared to the wild salt-spray of surf they were flying over, even Mysidia's shores seemed like a manicured and man-made thing --

_I can't believe this!_

Edward had not lied, not even stretched the truth with pretty bardic word-play, oh no. He really had traveled all the way to Kaipo under his own ability, mad and madcap as it was, and Anna clung to the strange craft's inner rails with the arm not firmly locked around Edward's waist. His own grip was firmly on the craft's controls, his eyes on the rocky shoals and the clashing waves, but for all that she could feel him lean against her reassuringly whenever her grip tightened.

And it moved so _fast!_ Why, they'd crossed the desert in mere hours and not a single creature caused them problems, not even the massive sandworm that reared up just to find its 'prey' long gone before it reached full height. No wonder Edward chose to use it --

"Shall we stop for a little?"

Out on the shoals, in the rocky islets off the coast? Surrounded by worn cobbles and sea-grass and crying birds, with not a soul in sight to drop gossip in her father's ear?

Right then, Anna wanted nothing more.

"Please --"

A flash of a smile. Edward brought the craft up onto an islet's sandy spit and powered it down out of reach of stray waves before offering his hand to her. Disembarking was trickier than she expected -- why did she feel unsteady? -- but in no time at all they sat side by side on an ancient granite boulder, watching the waves. Anna leaned into Edward; he slipped an arm around her, his cheek resting in her hair.

Curiosity, and temptation, whirled around in her thoughts ...

"Where did you find such a wondrous thing, Edward? There's not a kingdom that makes craft like that, not even Baron."

His sigh rustled her hair, but his answer was prompt.

"It belongs to my family; it's more accurate to say that it's been in my family for a very long time indeed. It's always been useful for fording across the desert, even if caravans are more practical in the long term."

The wistful resignation in those words was not lost on Anna. Somewhere in that simple statement was an answer, an important answer ... and it came all at once, looking down at Edward's hands. Hands sporting string-callouses, carefully cultivated, but hardly a mark aside from that. 

Unmarked. Musically inclined, but perishingly well educated in the merchant's ways. Well-spoken and well-kept. From _Damcyan_ , with a family that could have such wonders in their possession --

Before she could speak, Edward sighed again; it ended with a soft, rueful chuckle.

"You've found me out, haven't you. Not too hard, likely? Not now, at least. Believe me when I say that I've never wanted to deceive ..."

She nudged an elbow into his ribs, just a little.

"No more than you wanted to keep as many people as possible from trumpeting it off the sand wall, at least? Don't apologize for something you don't need to apologize for!"

"Sor - ah ..."

No, now she was laughing. She couldn't help it; his floundering was just too funny. Edward blinked a few times, pink rising in his cheeks, before the mirth caught up with him and he buried his face behind one hand to try to hide his own laughter -- so very _princely_ of him --

They laughed until the tears came and a few puzzled seabirds had landed to cock their heads quizzically at the brightly coloured oddities making strange noises on their rocky islet. They laughed, and talked, and watched stormclouds scudding across the far horizon; but alas, they couldn't stay where they were. Alas. She'd be noticed gone before too long at all, and he could hardly up and abandon Damcyan forever.

But when Edward's strange craft crested the last stones and the desert loomed ahead, Anna couldn't help but look back towards the sea -- now a smudge of dark promise on the horizon itself -- and a new kernel of determination began to blossom down deep inside.

She was a woman grown. What right did her father have to declare whether _her_ beloved was not 'worthy', anyway? What a shock he'd have, now, if he only knew; but why should he be allowed to know at all, after all he'd said and done?

And if it could be so easy to cross the desert and escape his querulous complaints ...

She leaned in close, and whispered softly into her beloved's ear.


End file.
